


Something About Us

by marimoes



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Camping, Confessions, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26166568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marimoes/pseuds/marimoes
Summary: “Lucky, huh?” Anders asks. His hands are tucked behind his head with leisure, eyes closed as the breeze sweeps the loose strands of his hair around. “Can you imagine getting assigned to a partner mission with anyone else and it not being a nightmare?”Nathaniel can’t help but smile when he truthfully replies, “No, I can’t.”
Relationships: Anders/Nathaniel Howe
Comments: 5
Kudos: 39





	Something About Us

The trip was assigned to the two of them with little to no fanfare at all. Oghren made a snide remark about tent poles that Nathaniel has since forgotten, thank the Maker, but otherwise no one noted it. Not a peep from Velanna or Sigrun’s lips as they too were tasked on a team mission. Whatever it is that has the Warden sectioning them off—it’s odd. 

The task was nothing more than a fetch quest, but given the materials lay in opposite directions, Nathaniel figures this was more efficient than a month long expedition with four of them. Hopes, at least, for there to be some reason to send such small parties. Not that he was about to argue. To be on the road with Oghren and Velanna arguing for a month—

“Lucky, huh?” Anders asks. His hands are tucked behind his head with leisure, eyes closed as the breeze sweeps the loose strands of his hair around. “Can you imagine getting assigned to a partner mission with anyone else and it not being a nightmare?” 

Nathaniel can’t help but smile when he truthfully replies, “No, I can’t.” 

This pulls Anders’ eyes shut tighter as a smile does the same across his face. The sun itself is rivaled against him when he’s in a good mood like this. Bright and golden, but not unavoidable when night falls. If anything, it’s rather the opposite. When darkness descends on the small camp they’ve made, Anders is brighter than ever. 

He glows against the weak crackle of fire, reflected on the plate against his chest. How he makes the warden uniform look as good as he does, Nathaniel hasn’t yet figured out. Anders has told him the same about himself, not that he believes it, but he does admit that blue does look quite good on him. 

Still, beneath it lies the real issue for the statement—the flirting. They’re still dancing around it. Whatever ‘it’ is in the first place, neither of them will even try to voice it. 

It’s held in brushes of shoulders and hands on ‘accident’, along with ‘coincidence’ that lands them in the bathhouse at the same time. Anders is not stupid, or at least Nathaniel hopes he isn’t, about the way their cheeks seem to turn a particular shade of rose when they get too close in tight spaces. Or when they work kitchen duty together, or—

“I’m tired and we should probably get up early come morning. I think the spot we need to go to isn’t but another day’s journey, and I don’t know about you but, I don’t like arriving in the dark,” Anders says, words pulled along with his body as he stretches. A crackle of a groan follows it as he settles back onto flat feet, and with a swift jerk, his hair is undone and spilling across his shoulders. Fingers scratch up against his scalp quickly and a laugh ghosts on his lips. “I should figure out a different travel style. All the way up, it starts to hurt your head.” 

“I can braid it back for you if you’d like,” Nathaniel offers without thought. “After traveling for so long, figuring this little number out has saved me many headaches.” 

Anders smiles at the offer, nodding wordlessly as he walks towards their tent. His tunic is tugged off with a grunt—the belts on the sides are still latched tight, making Nathaniel blush as it tugs his small clothes up to reveal his stomach—and is folded haphazardly before his boots are kicked off. There is a cautious glance given as Anders fingers hook his pants. Small clothes rest beneath, Nathaniel knows, but the look still asks a question. 

Nathaniel simply shuts his eyes, taking a slow blink as a response that he prays Anders will understand. Maker, he hopes he doesn’t have to vocalize it. 

They slide off Anders’ legs quickly and are folded all the same before he dips out of sight. With him goes Nathaniel’s stomach and the absence is nearly painful. He manages to put off following behind for about ten minutes, praying the mage has somehow fallen fast asleep. After all, he does go rather quickly during usual missions—the bastard. 

Off goes all of Nathaniel’s things, all the same as Anders’, but folded far nicer when he tucks them against the inner corner of the tent. Though dark, he can still make out the shape of a curled up body, facing the left side. He watches as Anders’ chest rises and falls slowly, held in a pattern that can only mean sleep. Good, then this shall be easier than he thought. 

Faced properly to the right side, Nathaniel blinks into dark canvas. Sleep never came easy to him before when it was just him alone in his bed at the estate, so why should it now? Now, when Anders’ foot is agonizingly close to his own and is begging to be nudged. 

Tossing over onto his other side with a huff, Nathaniel winds his eyes shut. 

“Hey.” 

Nathaniel almost doesn’t want to respond. That would be stupid and completely against his attempt for sleep, and yet he opens his eyes. Light is barely painting through the crack from the dying fire, falling in a single yellow line across Anders’ face. It bends against his nose into his hair, making him feel less real than usual. Like if Nathaniel didn’t reach out and touch him, he might just be fake. 

“Hi,” Nathaniel responds softly, “I didn’t mean to wake you. I suppose this is when you find out I’m not much of a sleeper.” 

Anders snorts, “I’ve known that. It’s why I tried to get to sleep before you, but I guess we saw how that worked out.” 

“So that I wouldn’t keep you awake?” Nathaniel asks, scooting unconsciously closer. He doesn’t know _why_ he’s whispering. They’re the only ones out here. Who is he going to wake up? 

Anders shakes his head against his arm, freeing some of his hair to fall into his face. It’s blown back with a strategic huff of air before he too scoots closer. The gap is no more than inches now, with the fire fading by the minute. It likely won’t be long at all until they have nothing but darkness. 

“I tried to sleep so that maybe it would, I don’t know, lull you into it too? A stupid thought now that I consider it,” Anders murmurs around a grimace. His foot slips forward, nudging Nathaniel’s for a moment, but doesn’t recoil. It instead sits, barely touching. “Either way, I wish I could say there is some sort of sleep spell that I know, but I don’t. It exists, I know that much, but I can’t do it.” 

“Maybe you should learn,” Nathaniel grumbles. 

His chest tugs, urging him to push his foot forward, and when he does Anders merely moves against him. Feet—then calves, but they stop short of knees—intertwine below them without a word. Nathaniel wants to yell into his arm, or at least it’s what his mind is telling him to do in order to release the tension in his chest. Any release is better than none compared to what continues to build with each breath. 

“Maybe I will,” Anders sighs, leg shifting slightly to rub against Nathaniel’s as he pushes his shoulder forward and readjusts. The space between their faces is minute, almost as small as the pause before Anders takes a breath in. “Hey, Nate?” 

Anxiety clenches Nathaniel’s throat as the last of the light fades against Anders’ face, but his hand moves of its own accord, curling into Anders’ sleeve tightly. Beneath it, he can feel the chill that’s raised against his skin. Whether it be from the very thing Nathaniel is chasing, or simply the cold, he can’t keep going on like this. Otherwise, sleep will evade him not only tonight but for weeks to come, he knows for certain. 

Moving close enough that their lips nearly touch, Nathaniel feels Anders’ breath against his skin. It ties his tongue into a knot, and yet he manages to open his mouth. His words are hoarse when breathed out, and cracking on the edges, but Nathaniel whispers, “Kiss me.” 

And Anders does. His lips press against Nathaniel’s own without a moment of hesitation, scooting forward to close what gap remains. Eager hands thread into Nathaniel’s hair, curling against him as if Anders could cement himself even further. Though there is nothing that could help either of them at the moment. There are only lips and teeth, hot breath and hands, all tied with an impatient string that has finally broken. 

Breath is pulled harshly through noses as they refuse to break and is gasped when they finally do part. But it isn’t for long, as it seems like an unspoken crime if they should have to inhale air that was not first the others. The silence is long gone, filled now with the crunch of grass beneath the shift of their legs that try to conquer an impossible task of intertwining further. Lips smack with each release, now swollen and red for eyes that cannot see them. 

“I was about to give up on you, you know,” Anders hums when they manage to part. He doesn’t stray far, placing kisses up Nathaniel’s jaw, nipping the skin just beneath his ear. “I said to myself, ‘That Howe, he’s got no interest in a lowly mage such as me.’” 

“Shut up,” Nathaniel huffs. “You’re the one that would pull back when I leaned against you during rests. The one that would turn away if I ever got too close in the caverns. What do you say to that?” 

Anders laughs against him before kissing the spot for a final time. “I say that I was trying not to get hard in front of the Commander and everyone else. You’re impossibly attractive in that uniform, you know.” 

“Yes,” Nathaniel sighs, “so I’ve been told.” 

“By me,” Anders supplies, tone clear that he’s hopeful no one else has managed to catch Nathaniel’s attention. Another kiss is placed towards his chin as he creeps ever slowly back to Nathaniel’s lips. 

“By you,” Nathaniel confirms.

There is a moment of silence between them as they shift to get comfortable once more, now pressed against each other in the middle of the tent. How can they sleep now that this has been drug up? Now that Nathaniel’s heart feels like a hummingbird’s, thumping harshly out of time.

“They did this on purpose.”

Nathaniel looks down to the darkness where Anders’ head lays against his chest and whispers, “Who?”

“The Commander. They sent us together on purpose, so that this would either finally happen or fail,” Anders explains, running a light finger up and down Nathaniel’s chest. “I didn’t think it was _that_ obvious.”

A laugh leaves Nathaniel a little louder than intended and Anders sits up, pressing a once gentle hand into him for balance. He pushes against Nathaniel, demanding a reason for the outburst with a low huff. Nathaniel sighs, laughing a little softer as it gets out of his system. 

“It’s just now that I think about it, it does make sense. Maker’s breath, there must have been something about us that was easier to see from the outside. Neither of us would’ve gotten here any time soon if left to our own devices. I was about to send you over the side of a cliff, you had me so frustrated.” 

At this Anders returns the laugh, pressed through his nose as he shakes Nathaniel once more. “How is it _my_ fault? You had every chance to do something about it yourself. And you did! So, that just proves it was meant to be you all along.” 

Blindly, Nathaniel reaches up to grab Anders’ shirt and winds a fistful of the fabric in his hand. He pulls down quickly, bumping their noses before shifting into another kiss. “Don’t make me demand it each time, please?” 

Anders kisses back, settling down softly against Nathaniel’s side, until their shoulders again rest on the ground. The desire to yawn drags through Nathaniel’s chest, and when he pulls away to do so, Anders hums. It’s the same satisfied noise that Nathaniel has often come to envy when it isn’t directed at him, and the feeling he has knowing that it is now confirms he was right to want it. Sleep tugs at him to close his eyes, weighing heavier with each breath Anders breathes against his neck. 

Perhaps Anders does have the ability to make him sleep after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> A DA drunk writing inbox prompt that got out of hand... oops. 
> 
> Send me some if you'd like!
> 
> Tumblr: @noswordstyle  
> Twitter: @__moes__


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